


Mad Nights

by Michevalier



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Consensual Sex, Darkfic, Drug Use, Established Relationship, M/M, POV First Person, Respectfulshipping, Revspec, Ryoken's POV, Smut, Toxic Relationship, different sides of relationships dynamics should be explored, yeah I do not wear pink shades like some shippers do with their OTPs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-21 05:33:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15550749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Michevalier/pseuds/Michevalier
Summary: They will never forget those nights they spent together... the nights filled with love(?) and horrific madness.





	Mad Nights

I will always remember those mad nights we spent together.

The idea was idiotic from the very start: to escape right in the middle of the Knight of Hanoi's barely renewed activity, when our attention should have been directed at enemies that surounded us from all sides. What we were striving for, two boys who were simply taken and thrown into this whirlpool of life without even asking our opinions? And most importantly, why did we do this?

Never mind. I do not remember what made me lose my mind and throw away everything, fleeing somewhere, anywhere just so that no one could ever find us. Yes, us. You followed me like you always did, no questions asked. Heh, sometimes I wonder if you're actually some part of my body that I cannot escape from? We grabbed as much money as we could carry, rented the cheapest room in some remote motel in the middle of nowhere and used the rest of the cash to buy booze and drugs. We were not even thinking about food back then.

We put acid under our tongues, although before that neither of us had ever even smoked, we sniffed coke and then in panic grasped each other's hands and squealed that our bones were falling apart. We, with sinking hearts, were swallowing dozens of methamphetamine, "flying away" as far as never before.

We made love: dayly and nightly, twenty-four hours a day, as soon as we wanted it. You caressed my dick with your soft lips, skillfully and with persistence, as if atoning for everything, for all nonexistent sins you thought you commited against me. I liked to put my hand on the back of your head and press it lightly, making you swallow a little deeper. Whenever I came, you would sit up and look at me, your lips dripped with my sperm, it fell on your own cock akin to thick drops of sauce. Kissing you, I licked the sperm from your lips, laid you on the floor and caressed your own shaft with my tongue until you would cum with a hoarse moan.

Those were crazy nights for both of us, Spectre. We drank so much that if someone had brought a match to our bodies, they would have flared up in a matter of a fraction of a second. We could not see the world with our blurry from alcohol, drugs and sex eyes, and our minds were occupied with nothing but our primitive desires. Putting my head in your lap, I sang along some "ancient" rock songs pouring from radio, and you tenderly caressed my hair with your fingers. Laying you under myself and gently penetrating you, I felt that this was it, the only thing I wanted to do all my conscious life.

I want to love you, Spectre. Always. I want to repay you for all your uncoditional kindness... that the scum like me never deserved in the first place. I want to bring you tea when you're sick, I want to tend to your wounds, I want to sew your clothes, feed you with sweet strawberries and caress your naked body. And yet I loved it when you were completely exhausted, drunk to the point of being uttely trashed, lying beneath me lifeless, like a broken doll, barely feeling how hard I was pounding inside of you. I loved your pitiful snotty face, how you whined: "Ryoken-sama", how you clung to me with your entire body and trembled while tears rolled down your blush-burned cheeks.

I'm a demon that defiled your body and soul, I'm the one who made you plunge into our mad nights.

We smoked so much that we no longer felt the taste of cigarettes, our stomachs ached from hunger and alcohol. I wanted simple clean water, but there was nowhere to get it from. We both reeked with sperm and sweat, but we did not care. We reeked with each other. We loved each other.

We drank each other's semen as the sweetest drink. When we kissed, it mixed with our saliva and trickled down our lips, necks, torsos, colored the floor in a light color. Sometimes, when the dope would leave us, we woke up and laughed, looking at all the nasty mess we had caused.

For some reason it seemed to me that you did not get off my cock at all. Sometimes I did you so hard that blood would remain dry on your thighs as if I had deprived you of virginity. You would get your vengeance on me with leaving bloody wounds on my back, digging your sharp nails into my skin and slicing it mercilessly. No one has ever been able to arouse me as much as you do. No one has taken over my mind to that extent. Nobody made me almost lose my breath as my lungs were about to rip into pieces. No one but you made my heart race that crazy as you kept whispering into my ear, begging as if there was no tomorrow: "Please, Ryo-sama! Harder!"

Of course, if it were a romance novel, we would have spent a long time together before we died or woke up and realized that none of it was necessarry. But no, it was not like that. Those who searched for us, those who actually gave a damn about us achieved their goal. Busting down the door, they loudly cursed, called us idiots, but we were so petrified that as if there were a nuclear war beginning, we would have understood no shit. I think Aso-san forced me in bathroom to wash my face, I think Kyoko-san hardly held back tears as she checked all those bruises and scratches and our shitty condition in general, and Genome just queitly stood there, shocked at the amount of harmful crap we consumed. I think, I think... I'm not sure. The only thing I can remember clearly is myself crying when you were taken from my arms. I would like your wounded, exhausted body to always be mine.

Now we somehow keep on living by each other's side, desperately pretending nothing happened. Our nights filled with unimaginable madness are in the past, but it's only them and not my love for you. I believe that someday we will be able to forget about what the Knights of Hanoi's leader and his right-hand man should be like and once again we can just be with each other. Love each other. Maybe we'll dive into drugs and alcohol again, and then we'll fuck like rabbits, and then, upon realizing what in the world we have done, shoot each other to death.

 _Because we both love and hate what happened during those mad nights_...


End file.
